reverence
by leeloo6
Summary: Beautiful things must be adored. Light/L/Light, short (sometimes smutty) one-shots.
1. pretty

Spidery fingers trailing down his spine and L thinks he could come just from the sheer excitement of it.

'Finally,' Light murmurs in his ear, his voice echoing through L's bones in a lullaby that's far from assuring and never tedious. It's a bit absurd, though, thinking that this devil in the skin of a young boy is supposed to be his enemy, that he should fight him and show him justice.

All he wants is to sit back and be taken by the storm.

Light traces unnamed patterns on his torso with his tongue and L has to stop himself from thinking that Kira is marking him with symbols of his godliness because he's always been quite annoyed with that part of Light that wants the whole world bowing at his feet.

Even though he'd deserve it, maybe.

'You didn't even want me before this,' the strange creature whispers in his ear on a low, dangerous tone. 'You only want me as Kira, don't you?'

'Mh-m, what ever you say, Light-kun,' he whispers in exchange, dismissing the other's words because he doesn't particularly enjoy having his personality picked apart and deconstructed, not by one of his kind, anyway.

Light is not satisfied with the answer and he holds L down by planting a palm on his chest and a knee between his legs. His eyes tell tales of scorn and lust as he leans down and breathes on L's lips.

'No. Say it,' he whispers and L rolls his eyes despite the obvious tension between them. Light likes to turn every small thing into a show, fueling gestures and words with a love for dramaticism, a subtle cry for attention that hides oceans of desire and resentment.

L knows that eventually, they will be the end of him.

'I wanted you to be Kira,' he says lazily and uncharacteristically slowly, so that his words may pass for intense feeling when, in fact, they mostly disguise boredom. 'You're fascinating when you're Kira,' he continues, this time more genuinely as he leans into Light and breathes against his skin.

'And?' Light demands, his breath slightly hitched and L decides to play along with submission, because he knows that's what _he_ wants.

'And,' he whispers, cupping Light's face in his hands and caressing his skin with the tips of his fingers, 'I _want_ you.'

He feels slightly disgusted with himself for playing such a cheap game when they could just get on with it already, but this time it feels like it's worth it.

The excitement returns as, after a moment of bewilderment, Kira's lips twitch into a devious smirk that foretells nothing of good omens. L is mesmerized by those eyes shining with confidence and tripping on power. He knows the feeling oh too well.

On top of him there is everything that the world rejects with its anonymity and adores with its envy- beauty and brilliance, the will to power, the art of deceiving, the art of killing with clean hands. L decided long ago that he'll ignore the _others,_ the parts of Light that he's not so fond of- the god complex, the dramaticism, the neuroticism, the hanging on a string of sanity with the abyss of decadence beneath him.

Those can wait- at least until they become poignant enough to make for a graceful downfall.

Oh, won't things get interesting _then_.

Light kisses him slowly and intoxicatingly and the idea of him makes L slip into adoration, if only for a little while, as bodies of thousands burn beneath them in clear, black ink.


	2. quiet

A/N: L is rather out of character in this one, according to the way I see him, which is by no means submissive. Well... I tried this, too.

* * *

L is always very silent when they fuck.

It starts off with nothing in particular, when they look at each other in the obscurity of their room after an exhausting day, strings of quiet reverberating through the air and reminding them that things have no reason to be tedious as long as they can make them interesting.

And they always can.

Light tilts up L's chin with a soft motion, touches his clear skin with the tips of his fingers and the tenderness is enough for the other to close his eyes and give in. Sometimes Light likes to be tender because it dilates time in an elegant, almost stage dramatic fashion, making them both highly aware of every brush of skin on skin, of every hitched up breath. This, and he enjoys L's reactions- when Light treats him this way, he looks like a small, fragile thing, all broken lines and tender motions, and he can't tell if it's genuine or if he's only acting for the sake of art, but he enjoys it either way.

Light's hands undress him and he arches up into every kiss while tracing patterns on Light's spine, _maybe he's trying to tell me something_, Light thinks, _maybe it's another accusation, _but as his tongue explores L's stomach, always descending, L never makes a sound. What ever the words that he's trying to say are, they mean nothing compared to _this._

When Light takes him in his mouth he can hear his fingernails scratching deep onto the bed, and sometimes he even arches up and fills Light further, as if he's trying to stifle all the dirty words that his pretty mouth would say. L likes silence, maybe because he doesn't want to hear all the things inhabiting his mind, not out loud.

Light is tender all the way through and he penetrates him slowly, sometimes kissing him in the process. L displays his closed eyelids and slightly parted lips, buried deep in the sensation of Light inside him, rocking his hips in small motions, as if he's afraid of his own being breaking from the pressure. He never makes a sound.

When he comes, he arches back in a way that's almost gracious, almost perfection. He opens his mouth, but only to let out a small puff of breath- he doesn't moan, he doesn't call out Light's name. But Light knows better, because L's fingernails are buried in the sensitive skin on the back of his neck, clutching tightly and almost drawing blood.

_So much for silence_, he thinks.

The aftermath is quiet, as quiet as everything is, and after some time L starts speaking again, but it's only his job and the case and _catching Kira-kun, Light_, no_, it was the other way around, L. _They get back to real life as if nothing ever happened, but in L's quiet moments while he's sitting at his desk brooding over nothings, Light remembers. He remembers the nights.

Other times Light is in no mood for kindness, only raw desire and maybe anger at how things are stagnating- the case, them, _everything_- and he still doesn't know who Kira is and what echoes of him are doing in the back of his mind, so he gives in to them and takes L roughly because he wants to break him for knowing more about Light than Light himself ever will.

He kisses L with undisguised urgency and forgets to take his time preparing him, so it must hurt, but L never makes a sound. He enters him without patience or grace, enjoying the intoxicating sensation of power that this gives him. His pace is fast and unrelenting and he feels guiltier with every thrust. Instead of moaning, L digs his fingers into Light's back, leaving bloody traces and Light knows that because he knows he deserves it.

When it's over, L looks at Light with no resentment and his eyes are filled with something warm, as if he understands. He's still quiet then.

One night, Light fucks him so hard that he almost forgets how to breathe and be silent, but instead he keeps very quiet the rest of the evening and he doesn't speak to Light the entire following day. In the evening he pushes Light down the bed with raw force and proceeds to undress him slowly, teasing him with every motion, his eyes fixed on the younger boy's face for every single torturous second.

That night, L's eyes speak for him, but Light's moans are too loud for him to notice the silence finally collapsing.


End file.
